Induction
by sasha1600
Summary: It’s Tim’s first day back at work after the events in 'My Two Dads'. Warning: part of a series that includes spanking. Don’t like? Don’t read!


**Induction**

**Summary:** It's Tim's first day back at work after the events in My Two Dads. **Warning:** part of a series that includes spanking. Don't like? Don't read!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, I just play with them.

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A/N: This is part of my 'Lessons' series and builds on a larger plot arc. It won't make much sense unless you read My Two Dads first.

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Tim sank into his chair and switched on his computer, glad to be back at work. Ducky had insisted that he take an extra few days to recover fully from his own immune system's attempt to kill him. His father had stayed until he got out of the hospital, then, since his apartment wasn't conducive to overnight guests, had persuaded him to go home with him for a few days while he recuperated.

He'd enjoyed the visit, despite the sometimes awkward conversations about his relationship with Gibbs. He hadn't admitted that his boss's treatment of him had become a lot more personal than the dynamic between an old-fashioned hard-ass Gunny and one of his men, which the retired naval commander understood and assumed to exist between Tim and Gibbs. It was bad enough that his dad had guessed as much as he had; he really didn't want to talk about why he needed his boss's forgiveness, as well as his discipline, when he screwed up.

Now, recovered and rested, he just hoped Gibbs wasn't planning an equally awkward conversation about his father's unexpected endorsement of his unorthodox leadership strategies.

So when Gibbs arrived a few minutes later, deposited his coffee on his own desk, then immediately headed over to Tim's, he was already worried. The order to hold out his hand took him by surprise. A moment later, staring down at the puddle of stainless steel in his palm, he could only stutter helplessly in shock.

'Put that on.'

'B...b...boss?'

'Put it _on_, Tim.'

'I'm not wearing that!' he protested instinctively, staring with mild horror at the two silvery tags attached to a sturdy chain.

'Yes, you are.'

'Boss, I don't need a medicalert tag...'

'That antibiotic they gave you could have killed you, Tim. If you get injured again, and one of us isn't with you to tell the EMTs about your allergy...'

'Yeah, but...'

'It's not negotiable, Tim. You're wearing it.'

'But...'

'I'm not letting you out in the field without it, McGee...'

The steely command tone his boss's voice had taken on was nearly enough to convince him to do as he was told, even before Gibbs continued, '... unless Ducky signs off on it. It's a medical matter, so, if you have a problem with it, take it up with him.'

Tim's resolve melted. He wasn't up to that conversation. For all his kindly nature, the ME was a force to be reckoned with when he found himself with a patient who, uncharacteristically, was able to talk back. He was already likely to have to endure having his arm poked and prodded; he didn't want to find out how Ducky would react if he asked him to tell Gibbs he didn't need to wear an allergy ID tag. He decided to narrow his argument.

'Ok... but why can't I just get one of the bracelets? Like most people wear?'

'If you want one of those for when you're off the clock, that's fine. But it's a hazard on the job. It could get snagged on something...'

'Well, at least if a _bracelet _gets caught on something, I won't choke to death,' Tim muttered under his breath.

He obviously wasn't quiet enough, however. Gibbs replied sharply, 'It tucks into your shirt, McGee. And the chain is long enough to just slip off over your head if it does get caught on something. I wore one in the Marines. Your father wore one in the Navy. If it's safe to wear in combat, it's safe for you to wear in the field.'

Tim hesitated a moment longer, alternately glaring at the offending object and looking pleadingly at Gibbs. The former Marine held his eyes, his face hardening into that look that Tony called his 'DI stare'. With an exaggerated sigh, he slipped the chain over his head and dropped the 'dog tags' down his collar. He'd always intended a career in law enforcement, but it had felt a bit like the Fates were mocking him when the job offer came from NCIS, after growing up in a Navy family.

Now, feeling the unfamiliar brush of metal against his chest, he was sure the universe had a slightly warped sense of humour.


End file.
